Stronger Than Me
by tackywriter
Summary: "Name's Negan." "Didn't ask." / PRE-Sanctuary!Negan, PRE-Savior!Negan Negan/Reader
1. Chapter 1

check out the imagery for this chapter at on archeofourown: works/11771322/chapters/26537535

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"Gross, ain't it?"

You had your gun pointed towards the crouching man who'd been peeking into a green volkswagon, trying to see past the gore of brains and flesh that fogged up the window.

He hadn't heard you coming which— duh, was the point. You almost rolled your eyes at the very clear unimpressed look in his eye at your comment, as well as the pistol that you had aimed to his head.

Well, too bad. You couldn't take any chances, and this man looked like a mean dude.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" The deep gravel in his voice startled you at first, mostly because you weren't expecting it. He was tall and muscular, scruffy with what you assumed was three months worth of facial hair peppered on his face.

To be honest, he was the first lone survivor you stumbled on since the outbreak happened a few weeks ago. Everyone just— sorta... scattered. If they were lucky, they had a spot reserved in one of the residential safe-zones the military had set up weeks before the outbreak official happened.

There were very few lucky ones.

The residential towns filled up quick, and those who weren't on the waitlist were told to move along.

Those who resisted were shot down.

You quickly learned your place.

You were out of your home city within the first three days. Your family is gone, your friend's left without a word, and frankly, you were focused on getting your ass away from the—those infected.

It all worked out in the end.

You learned to make do with what you could. You traveled alone, because you could not protect anyone else.

"Have some fucking respect for the dead," The survivor, who you currently held at gunpoint scolded you with his gruff voice, which you found humorous because he was telling you to respect the dead family that he was about to raid anyways.

You cocked your head to the side, raising an eyebrow, your amusement on your face.

His scowl deepened as he watched you, seemingly unfazed by your gun. His dark gaze hesitantly glanced at the dead body in the car, a fresh body with a hole through her forehead.

He glanced back to you, "Did you do it?"

"What?" You frowned at his blunt question, noting the hint of anger hidden in his overtly casual demeanor. "No. It's obviously a suicide, look at how stiff her trigger finger is."

The man peered into the van again, not even bothered how you hadn't lowered your gun. You would be offended if you weren't so curious about the strange survivor. You thought for sure he'd be trying to make demands by now. Still, he was a wild card, and you refused to let him get the jump on you.

"Well look at that," He let out a low whistle, impressed. "You're fuckin' right. Only thing missing is the gun." His dark gaze met yours as he finally acknowledged the weapon you pointed in his direction. Clearly you got to the van before he had, and took the goods. "You sure you know how to use that thing, girl?"

Your eye twitched in annoyance, because this was the first gun you've stumbled upon since the Start, but you weren't going to let him have the satisfaction of knowing he's right.

"I think it'll be pretty easy to figure out, yeah?"

"You shouldn't wave that thing around if you're not gonna use it."

Arrogant bastard! You took a step towards him, "I don't want to use it, but don't think I won't—"

Perhaps you were the arrogant one, because you hadn't even realized the man lunged at you until your wrist were in his grip and the gun was out of your hand. Holy shit—

The man seemed to find the situation hilarious, because the deep laughter that bubbled from his belly was entirely genuine.

You glanced at his face, frightened of the survivor who now, literally, had you in his captivity. He held the gun you found out of your reach, a triumphant look on his face.

"—Yeah, well I motherfucking will, girlie. So thanks for the gift."

Ack!

You reached for his waistline, snatching the hunting knife he had that was in your reach and was unguarded by his assault on you.

Stumbling back a few steps away from the large man, you pointed his knife in his direction with an annoyed look on your face.

"Right.. Well back at 'ya." Motherfucker stole your gun. At least you had his knife now, so you wouldn't be completely defenseless. It was time to leave before things escalated any further. You could find new areas to scavenge.

With your eyes glued to his dark brown hues, you took slow steps backwards, pretty sure he wouldn't shoot you if your back was turned, but didn't know for certain. He pointed the gun to the ground, but you couldn't ignore his finger which lay hesitant on the trigger.

Finally, the man let out a scoff, flipping the safety on the gun and tucking into his waistband. He rubbed the back of his head as he eyed your retreating form, and you couldn't help but notice the exhausted look in his eyes.

"Well, unlike you, I'm not a rude mother-fucker who's determined to go around killing what's left of the human fucking race."

Your exasperation showed on your face as you responded defensively, "I wasn't going to shoot unless you tried something!"

"The only way I would do something is if some fucking creep pointed his goddamn gun at me trying to be the king motherfucking dick—you got that you little shit?"

'Uhhh... does this mean he considered me to be king dick?'

Still, the man was not finished chewing you out.

"How in the never living fuck have you survived this long?" He actually looked angry, jamming his forefinger in your direction. "I've seen weak pieces of shit like you get gnawed on for less ignorant shit!"

Ergh. This guy really had a big attitude problem. You could feel your eye twitching from your restraint in snapping right back at the guy, knowing that he was much larger—definitely stronger than you.

He wasn't **nearly** as quick as you were, though.

Between clenched teeth, you drawled out, "And I've seen egocentric sons of bitches like you go down for less."

There was a silence between the two of you as your guys's words hung in the air.

It seemed the two of you were on the same page.

It's been three weeks since the start of this new world, and you have stumbled upon a handful of survivors, all of whom you've watched be taken.

All of whom you left behind.

You finally lowered his hunting knife as you eyed the— very, masculine survivor, who was now leaning against the green van, arms crossed against his chest.

The way his black T-Shirt stretched across his broad shoulders nearly had you distracted, and you nearly had to shake the image out of your head as you cleared your throat. His gaze was dark as he eyed you up and down, not even bothering to hide his wandering eye. Except, you weren't entirely certain if his perusal was sexual or not. Or if he even liked what he saw.

Errrg, awkward.

And great, you could hear one of the infected creeping up from a distance away.

The survivor before you heard it as well, his head snapping in the direction of the noisy pest. He unfolded his arms from his chest, placing his hands on his hips as his attention returned to you, for the loner infected was still a few yards away.

His deep baritone voice nearly startled you, as you were not expecting the next words that came out his mouth.

"Well, did you forget all your fucking manners after the world went to shit, or what? Are you gonna make me guess? What's your goddamn name, girlie girl?"

Your eyebrows flew up in amusement— god, he's calling you rude?! Still, you had a feeling you knew where he was going with this.

Arms crossed against your chest, you felt oddly vulnerable. The last time you traveled with another survivor didn't end well. You weren't sure you could do it again.

There really was no choice.

"[Y/N]," You mumbled, refusing to meet his gaze, eyes glued to the dirt road. "Just... don't get fucking attached."

Because you will leave him behind.

If you had to.

He actually looked appalled by your grim demeanor, and when his face went slack and emotionless, you thought for a moment he were truly angry by your comment.

Without another word, he turned around to take care of the infected pest. You wondered to yourself if he would waste bullets on the lone walker, since you stole his knife.

The survivor surprised you when he kicked the infected walking man in the gut, sending the pest on his back. Viciously, the survivor raised his large booted foot, stomping on the dead's head repeatedly before the pest remained immobile.

Well. Now you understood why he was a survivor.

He brushed passed you wordlessly, returning to the green van as he smashed in the drivers window with his elbow, shattering it entirely. You figured the car has been dead for a while, thankfully he didn't trigger an alarm with his recklessness. You could have easily picked the car door open.

Deciding to follow his lead, you headed over to a car a few feet ahead, checking to make sure there were none of the infected around. Digging into your jean pocket for your wire, you began to pick the Honda's door, smirking triumphantly when the door popped open a few moments later.

There wasn't much to scavenge—a pack of cigarettes which you passed, instantly heading for the bottle of wine in the back seat, and patting down the dead woman in the drivers seat, taking her lighter from her front pocket.

There was no sense in shutting the door back, so you tucked your findings into your rusack, glancing around your surroundings before your eyes landed on the man, who'd just finished slipping his arm through his backpack's sleeve.

"Name's Negan."

You smirked at him, remembering how he'd called you 'fucking rude' for not introducing yourself, yet it took him this long to give you his name.

"Didn't ask," You waved your hand at him disinterestedly, heading off the dirt road and back towards the woods.

The sound of his heavy footsteps came from behind you. Christ, the dude was so freaking big.

"Right—you're a real fucking comedian," He huffed from behind you, before finally falling into your quick, but silent strides.

You cocked an interested look to your side so you could catch Negan's profile, his attention too focused on the woods surrounding you two to notice your gaze.

He actually looked amused. His signature scowl was still pasted on his face, but you had a feeling that he wasn't nearly as annoyed as he made himself out to be.

Crap—are you, are you smiling?

Jesus Christ, [Y/N].

Don't get attached!


	2. Chapter 2

"[Y/N]!"

The peaceful silence that surrounded the block was interrupted by Negan's booming voice calling your name. Your jaw nearly dropped open from shock by how stupid he could be—why the hell was he shouting your name at the top of his lungs like an idiot?

"[Y/N]! Where the **FUCK** are you?!"

What the hell—

You popped your head out of the open window of the condo-complex that you scaled, using the rusted pipeline on the wall to climb up and jump to the fire-escape. You were three floors up, but you could easily spot Negan's large form searching wildly for you from below.

"Negan!" You hissed his name in a loud whisper-shout.

His head snapped at the sound of your voice, searching for you from the ground. You began waving you hands back and forth in order to catch his attention.

"Pssst— Negan!"

His head snapped up, nostrils flaring when he saw that you were completely out of his reach. You almost snorted at the idea of Negan climbing the emergency escape in order to grab you, considering it was already deteriorating and definitely would not hold his monstrous weight. Still, he looked completely distraught, and you wanted to know what the hell got into him.

"Lower your freaking voice!" You hissed, climbing out the window and stepping on the rusted railing. He looked fine—so it's not like he got bit, or something. The two of you cleared the street before you started scavenging.

"What the fuck are you thinking!" Negan didn't take your advice, his voice raising even louder. "Get your ass down here right now, or I swear to God— I will climb the fuck up there and drag your ass down by your goddamn hair-"

"Wooah," You wrapped your legs around the pipeline before slowly inching yourself down the three stories, and dropping down on the solid ground with practiced ease. You were dusting her sore hands off casually as you began, "I'm gonna need you to watch your mouth when talking to-"

But you were cut off by a raging Negan, clearly pissed at you. His large hands snatched at your shoulders, holding you in place, forcing you to bite your tongue when he roughly shook your smaller frame.

"I thought you were gone—"

"-Negan—"

"-That one of those fucks got you—"

"-Hey—"

"-You didn't answer when I called your name [Y/N]—"

"— **Negan**!"

"—So what the fuck was so important up there, huh?" Finally, Negan released your shoulders, shoving you away in his anger. You stumbled back from his brute strength, jaw dropping again at his nerve. This guy was beginning test your patience. "Did you find what you were looking for?!"

He'd been concerned about you, which is, uhhh.. a nice sentiment, you suppose.

But.. well..

"John.." You spoke his first name softly once you realized he was done throwing his grown man baby tantrum. "...you know this is stupid, right?" You thought he was smart enough to understand that you guys didn't get the privilege of getting attached anymore. Even if something hadhappened to you, there was no reason for him to be freaking out like this.

Not like this.

"Don't you ever get sick of all the bullshit you spew, [Y/N]!" Negan suddenly rounded on you, causing your eyes to widen, taking a step back. You knew that he had a terribly crude mouth, but this was the first time he spoke to you in such a manner.

The two of you have been traveling together for- how long has it been? Days, only. Deep down, you know you could count each one—each of the silent, somber campfire nights, the hot sweltering days of traveling through woods and sneaking through towns..

Eight days.

For eight days, the two of you survived together.

Eight days.. that was nothing. But nowadays.. It felt like an eternity.

"You can't give me that—'don't get attached', bullshit! Because I'm already fucking attached," He jabbed a finger between your breasts, your chest bruising from his hard touch as a flush spread across your face, "And I know for a goddamn fact, you're motherfucking attached too!"

Face red from embarrassment and fury—how dare he call you out like that that cheap piece of shit—and you slapped his hand away from your body.

"Fuck off, Negan!" You cursed, knowing that you sounded exactly like him when you spoke like that. His dark orbs flashed dangerously as you stood up to him, shoulders squared as you refused to let him continue airing out your dirty laundry. "You don't get to tell me how I feel! If I say I don't give a damn about you, then I fucking mean it!"

Negan towered over you, his brown eyes darkening as he took another dangerous step closer, causing you to instinctively take a step back once again. It was your mistake showing weakness, because his large arm snaked around your waist, grip firm when he roughly tugged you against him, causing you to stumble into his chest.

He had to be at least a head or two taller than you. Than man was large dude, and you pressed your dainty hand to his chest and gently tried to push him away.

"[Y/N]." Negan rumbled your name softly, his voice still tense with anger, but there was.. something else implied, as if he were begging you to meet his gaze, to recognize it.

He waited until you looked up at him, before speaking knowingly, "You don't fucking mean it."

You didn't mean it.

You did care for him.

And it was freaking you out.

"There's a survivor," You grumbled, desperate to change the subject.

Your sudden curve ball successfully threw Negan off as his large hand tightened it's hold on your waist, before stepping away, returning to the demeanor of the survivor you were so familiar with. You nearly let out a sigh of relief that your moment, or whatever the hell it was, was over.

"The fuck are you talking about?"

"I think there's a survivor, right in there" You took a few steps away from him in what you hoped was a casual manner, pointing your finger towards the condo's you had been scavenging. "I saw a light flashing in the window, so I was gonna check it out."

You could already tell by the look on Negan's face that he was about to chew your ass out, so you quickly intervened, "I was watching my back Negan, I don't need to tell you I was being careful."

"You were—fucking, careful!" Negan finally scoffed, after stumbling over a few sentences in his rage before deciding on mocking you, "You were being fucking careful! You're too dumb to realize that it's a goddamn trap, you see something shiny and your sweet little ass has to go fucking investigate—are you fucking me-?"

"Fuck you!" Your face burned from rage, fist clenching as you tried to refrain from decking him in his jaw.

"—No, fuck you [Y/N], fuck you for making me worry because you couldn't wait five fucking seconds before trying to get your ass snatched like a goddamn kid in a candystore!"

It took you a moment to realize Negan was storming towards the entrance of the the condo complex, and you panicked, having no idea what he would do next. You called after him, rushing to be at his side.

"Negan—what are you doing?!"

"We're gonna find your fucking survivor that you wanted to risk your ass about-"

"..." You opened your mouth to argue, before snapping it shut. You guys had plenty of food, but you knew that you and Negan were running low on ammo and weapons. To be honest, you were down for a raid if he was. You, at least, knew how to be sneaky and quiet- hence the creeping in through the third floor.

Your partner, however, knew not the meaning of stealth, because he was already ripping the door open to the entrance, already on the move.

"—And you better bet your sweet ass that this isn't a fucking trap, because I am not above rubbing it in your face when I fucking told you so."


	3. Chapter 3

Gnawing on your lower lip, you watched anxiously as Negan crossed his arms against his chest, staring down at the two survivors you found as they sat on their knees on the plush carpet before you guys.

Face grim, Negan scratched at the fresh 5'oclock shadow he was sporting. He glanced down at the two men, an unimpressed look on his face as he seemed to gather his thoughts, before turning his attention back to you.

"Excuse-the- _shit_ outta me, [Y/N]. Ain't this embarrassing? I wouldn't want you to think that I'm some asshole _shit_ who doesn't know when to admit he's wrong. So I'll say it right now, I was _so_ , goddamn wrong."

He returned his attention to the men that were currently kneeling on the carpet in fear. You were almost surprised by how easily they surrendered, considering Negan didn't even need to draw the gun that he stole from you.

Just one look at him, and the two pathetic idiots were already pleading for their lives.

They were smaller than Negan, and they were clearly unarmed, other than the lousy kitchen knives they had strapped to their legs. You pondered to yourself whether they'd even encountered one of the walking dead, yet.

The blond was younger looking—though still older than you, perhaps in his early twenties while the brunette looked as though he could very well be in his thirties.

You chewed on your lip some more, wondering how many times these men would need to stab Negan with their flimsy knives before he went down for good. You had a feeling he would still be able to take on the two men, even if they _could_ get a few good hits on him.

You've seen Negan fight.

There's a reason he is a survivor.

"Looks like it wasn't a _trap_ , after all. The fuckin' _light_ you saw flashing in the window was the _ice_ on this pussy's wrist," Negan threw his hand in the direction of the blond man's bedazzled wristwatch, glistening with silver diamonds, which had caught your attention in the first place as it reflected off the sun's rays. It would have been worth a fortune Before, but it was useless to look at now.

But _still_ , for some reason, you couldn't keep your eyes off it. His watch glistened against the ray of light peeking through the window, and at the moment, you felt like a moth drawn to a flame.

A knowing grin spread across Negan's face, breaking your trance when you noticed him clearly watching you.

"Fucking _women_ , huh?" Negan addressed the two men on the floor, throwing everyone off by how casually he spoke, as if they were all good, old friends.

The two men looked at eachother in confusion while you whipped your head in Negan's direction, defensive and ready to retort about his remark. You frowned when you saw he was already laughing at the look on your face—he always wanted a reaction from you, trying to break through your cold, unattached demeanor.

"Let me tell you, because I fucking know all there is about _women_. They see something shiny, and they fucking gotta get their hands on it. Listen to this shit- I've been trying to get this one here to acknowledge the _hard-on_ I've got for her, but she snubs her pretty-fucking nose at me every time."

He rubbed his chin, eyeing the shiny wristwatch on the blond ones wrist, before snapping his fingers as if an idea struck him.

Negan smiled darkly, "I _think_ , I _want_... your _fucking_ watch."

Wordlessly, you watched as the blond unsnapped the clasp on his watch, dropping the rolex into Negan's outstretched hand. Negan let out a low, impressed whistle as he let the watch dangle between his fingers, the diamonds twinkling in the sunlight that was peeking in through the window.

"You know what the say about diamonds, [Y/N]." Negan gestured for you to step closer, which you reluctantly did, stretching your arm out so he could wrap the cold, heavy watch against your wrist. "They're a girls best-fucking-friend; I got my fingers crossed _this_ will take out the stick you have shoved so far up your ass."

Eyes narrowing as you allowed the large survivor to clasp the shiny object around your wrist, you pursed your lips together in order to refrain from snapping back at him, deciding you were actually pleased with his gift.

For some reason, you liked keeping random objects that reminded you of Before. Especially things you never would have own Before—it was strange, really. But the excitement of finding a trinket that you liked, really, was the only rush of happiness you've gotten, lately.

"Thanks," You said the word slowly, dryly, though you _were_ being sincere. "It's beautiful." You just didn't like admitting he did something that you liked, because you've found that boosting Negan's ego is never a good idea.

Negan broke into a genuine smile, grinning ear-to-ear at your praise. Taking a step closer, once again invading your personal space as he leaned down a few inches in order to close the gap between you two, his lips hovering by your ear.

"You know how you can _thank_ me, sweet thing?"

His breath was hot against your ear, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes into the back of your head. Seriously, how could this man have absolutely _no game_ , yet still for some reason he has your heart nearly pounding out of it's chest?!

 _'It must be because it's the apocalypse_ — _lack of potential suitors and such,'_ You reasoned with yourself, brushing off your reaction.

"Uhhm, by searching these guys' shit, and seeing what I can scrap up for dinner?" You responded to Negan's question innocently, batting your eyelashes demurely as you ignored his advance towards you. Releasing your wrist, Negan swiped his thumb against your cheekbone, wiping away some dirt that you didn't care enough about to clean off.

Finally, he stepped away from you, no longer in your personal space as he looked entertained by your response.

"Mmm- _hmmm_ ," He hummed in approval, biting his lower lip. _"Goddamn,_ you have a sexy mouth!" His smile grew even wider as he watched your face flush at his bold claim. Negan was almost bouncing from joy, clearly enjoying your banter, "Well—baby girl, knock yourself out! I got this shit handled right here."

The men watched wordlessly as you headed towards the bathroom, disappearing behind the corner in the back of the room. Negan's eyes were glued to your retreating form with a smirk on his face, the tense silence broken by the brown haired, mousy looking man kneeling on the floor.

"Please don't let her take all of our stuff," He pleaded, trying to sound stronger than he looked.

Negan tilted his head to the side, eyes shifting back to the two men he currently had on the floor.

His grin split even wider, proud at the thought of you. "Yeah—she's a real nasty chick, ain't she? Unfortunately for you, I can't control her crazy ass. And I for _damn sure_ can't tell her what to do, so I'm guessing you boys are shit out of luck."

"We will starve! We're already short on supplies because we can't leave this fucking place—"

The brunette was getting to his feet, feeling bold. His younger brother, the blond, whispered harshly, " _Dan_! You're going to get us killed—"

"We're gonna die anyways if they take our food, Nick!"

The joyful look on Negan's face vanished entirely, replaced by a thunderous, enraged look as he quickly advanced on the survivor named Dan.

"No, but you _will_ die if you don't _sit your scrawny little ass down_ right now."

Obviously shaken, Dan slowly lowered himself back down to the carpet floor, teeth clenching from both anger and fear.

"So let's get everything out in the open, right now. Now, I've always taken pride in the fact that I am a _man of my mother-fucking-word_ , so I want you two pencil dicks to take me at my fucking best when I tell you, _I'm gonna take your shit_. Now, as a man of my mother-fucking-word, I think you'll understand me when I say.."

The smile now gone once again, Negan's face was dark with promise as he finished, "If I think you'll do _one thing_ — _one_ , single, thing, to put that girl right there in danger... I _will_ kill you."

Dan's face grew white while Nick, the geeky four-eyed blond immediately began sputtering,

"W-We— We definitely won't be doing _that_ — mister, _please_ — just take our stuff and leave!"

"See, I like this guy!" Negan crossed his arms against his chest in contemplation, rubbing at the stubble that was growing rapidly from his chin. He never let his shit grow out his long Before.

"I mean, he's a fucking pussy, obviously, but your pal over here knows what the fuck to do in order to survive. You see, I can respect a real survivor. Worlds gone to shit, and a lot of mother fuckers decide to what— give up and bite the dust? But that girl in there—the one that's _raiding_ all your shit right at this very moment? She is a fucking survivor."

He grinned from ear-to ear as he thought of you, admiring that you were tough as shit. "And I hate to admit it, but Danny boy here is right. Two pathetic wimp dicks like you- you _will_ die."

There was a pause as Negan continued to scratch at his chin, letting his words settle between the man before he continued.

" _Unless_.. You decide you want to fucking _survive_ , and follow me."


End file.
